


Reignite

by luminousblade



Category: The Sentinel (TV), The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Fantasy, Fix-It, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:00:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24272464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luminousblade/pseuds/luminousblade
Summary: Following the events on the mountain, Geralt retreats to Kaer Morhen to spend some time in solitude only to find his mentor, Vesemir, already in residence. Forced to confront things he'd rather ignore, Geralt has no choice but to stop running from the truth, and the man he'd unintentionally bonded to. That was the easy part.  The hard part will be finding a way to apologize and hope he isn't too late to make things right.  Add in a meddling old dragon and Geralt's ex and this will either be a huge success or end in disaster.  Possibly both.Who is he kidding, it will absolutely be both.  Fuck.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 16
Kudos: 98
Collections: Rough Trade Presents: The Year of the Sentinel - 2020





	1. Prologue: Departures

**Author's Note:**

> Canon Divergence After Season 1 Episode 6, Rare Species. Title inspired by the song Reignite by Malukah 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=re32xnyYP3A

# Prologue: Departures

Jaskier couldn't stop the words from echoing in his head.

_“Why is it whenever I find myself in a pile of shit these days, it's you, shoveling it?”_

He knew that the Witch was important to Geralt; maybe he didn't quite understand why but he acknowledged it as fact and accepted it all the same. Antagonistic and self entitled, he'd not miss her presence but Jaskier could regret the pain she'd left in her wake. Seeing the devastation writ so blatantly across Geralt's face was bad enough but feeling it pulse down the bond he shared with the Witcher was worse; which was why he'd attempted to break the tense atmosphere with an, admittedly, ill timed bit of levity. Stupid. So stupid.

_“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!”_

The anger thrown his way was only slightly less shocking than the pain those words had caused; even worse was the echo of truth that reverberated down the bond that tied him and Geralt together. A dagger to the gut would have hurt less and been infinitely preferable. He'd thought when the nascent bond had formed between them that it was a sign of Geralt's trust and regard, that underneath his stoic demeanor and gruff manner he cared for Jaskier enough to want that connection. Gods, but he was a fool. 

_“Right, uh...See you around, Geralt.”_

Turning to head back down the mountain, Jaskier tried to resign himself to the loss of the one person he'd counted on to always be there, the one meant for him, the one person who would always want him in return. Obviously, he'd been wrong. So very wrong. Passing by where Borch had been seated, silent, through the entire exchange, Jaskier was startled when the other man reached out a hand to stop him.

“That was harsh and ill deserved, Master Bard; I'd expected better of your Witcher.”

Jaskier couldn't stop the snort that escaped him or the shaky inhale that followed. “Obviously not my Witcher. Not my anything anymore.” he finished softly.

“If I may ask, how long have you been together?”

“Sixteen years. Not that it apparently meant anything.”

Borch's lips tightened briefly before letting his arm drop. “You deserve better.”

“There is no one better.” 

With a sad attempt at a smile, Jaskier turned and resumed his slow trek off of the mountain, never noticing Borch's narrowed eyes and thoughtful gaze as he watched him go.


	2. Kaer Morhen

# Chapter 1: Kaer Morhen

Geralt let out a long sigh as he finished leading Roach through the final set of gates and into the interior courtyard of Kaer Morhen; it had been a long couple of months but, hopefully, here he could get some much needed rest. Following the events in the Dragon Mountains, Geralt had made his way down to the nearest settlement and taken a few odd jobs as he attempted to wrangle his anger and come to grips with the losses he'd suffered as a result. At first, everything was business as usual; quieter, without Jaskier's constant presence (he didn't need the noise, the silence was _fine_ ), but then he started having problems with his senses. When it first occurred, Geralt was hunting for something to bring back to camp for dinner and he'd suddenly found his sight inexplicably dimming. He was admittedly startled, but when he could see perfectly a few moments later, the experience was chalked up to his being overly tired and dismissed as irrelevant. Repeating that to himself as the strange lack of control over his senses continued, Geralt proceeded with life as usual until a sudden loss of hearing nearly saw him split down the middle by an unanticipated attack. So maybe the issues with his senses was relevant after all.

It was just unheard of for a Witcher to have sensory issues; part of the process for becoming a Witcher in the first place included extensive training, both physical and magical, and a regimen of potions that fundamentally changed the trainees at a cellular level. By the time a Witcher's training was complete they had full control over their new abilities and senses; an iron clad control that would never falter or be broken. Until now, apparently. Retreating back to Kaer Morhen was the only option and while he'd very rarely gone back outside of the winter months, Geralt was looking forward to the peace and solitude. Maybe while he was wrangling himself back under control, he could deal with the burnt out emotional landscape he'd been dragging around with him since leaving the mountain.

Once Roach was comfortably stabled with fresh food and water, Geralt gave her one final pat on the nose and made his way inside the castle to begin his much anticipated solitude. Finding Vesemir lounging by the fire in the dining hall with a book on his lap was far more surprising than it should have been. From the unimpressed look and raised eyebrow his obvious startlement had been met with, Vesemir agreed. Suddenly, Kaer Morhen wasn't looking like the refuge Geralt desperately needed it to be. Fuck. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad; Vesemir was the oldest of the Witchers remaining and if anyone had any idea about how to fix Geralt's senses, it would be his mentor. Then again, if Geralt told Vesemir why he was here, he'd want to know everything that had happened prior to his current predicament and Geralt would rather pluck himself bald than rehash the events on the mountain. Then again-

“Are you going to come in and sit down or are you auditioning for a job as a door?”

Knocked out of his runaway thoughts, Geralt was mortified as he felt himself begin to flush, yet another thing he'd been trained out of doing. Or so he thought. From the look on Vesemir's face, the lapse in control hadn't gone unnoticed. Double Fuck.

Clearing his throat, Geralt motioned behind him. “Actually, I just needed to grab a few things and-”

“Get in here and sit down before I make you.”

Geralt was pretty quick on his feet, maybe he could make a break for it. “Vesemir...”

“Don't make me tie your ass to the chair.”

Or not. It wasn't an idle threat as Lambert had found out last winter when he'd doubted their mentor's abilities within range of his hearing. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_. Giving into the inevitable, Geralt made his way over to the fire place and slouched down in the chair opposite Vesemir with an irritated huff before resolutely turning his gaze towards the fire crackling next to him. Staring hard at the dancing flames in an effort to put off the inevitable for a few more moments, Geralt ignored the sharp inhalation as Vesemir got a good look at him; sleep had been hard to come by lately and it showed in the lines and deep shadows on his face. Turning his thoughts resolutely away from the reasons behind his new found insomnia, Geralt instead found himself focusing on the glimpses of blue he could see where the fire burned hottest, blue almost the same shade as Jaskier's eyes. Gods damn him for a fool but he missed the bard. Letting himself wallow a little in the color, and the peace it represented, Geralt didn't realize how deep his mind was going in time to stop and likewise didn't hear the exclamation of surprise as Vesemir watched him slip into the first fugue he'd experienced since before he was a Witcher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I heart Vesemir so much. In my mind he's a such a smartass troll, you have no idea.


	3. Hard Truths

# Chapter 2: Hard Truths

Geralt's world was filled with blue and it was the most at peace he'd felt in months. He let himself drift, content to remain where he was until a buzzing noise, not unlike that of a fly, began to intrude on the edge of his consciousness. Irritated at the interruption, Geralt pulled his attention firmly back into the blue and relaxed once more when it went away. He wasn't sure how long he remained like that when the buzzing came back louder and more insistent than before followed by the sensation of displaced air moving past his face once, twice...

Geralt's eyes shot open and he threw up an arm to fend off the blow he knew was coming; from the feel of it he'd been hit at least once already and experience told him he really didn't want Vesemir to have a reason to do it again. 

“Back with me now, are you? About time.”

Geralt leaned forward in his chair, which had been turned away from the fire that so entranced him before, and covered his face with his hands, content to just breath for a minute. He listened to Vesemir walk away and rummage through a nearby cabinet before a grunt of satisfaction and his returning footsteps prompted Geralt to raise his head and look at his mentor with no small amount of trepidation. A small, dark green bottle covered in a light coating of dust was unceremoniously shoved into his hands before Vesemir retook his seat with a weary sigh. 

“Drink that and then start at the beginning. No bullshit this time either.”

Geralt opened his mouth before shutting it with a snap, breaking the seal on the bottle, and tipping the unknown contents into his mouth. Gentle warmth followed the path of the potion and Geralt could swear he felt his world tilt a little before realigning itself; for the first time in months he felt almost completely stable on the senses front. Staring at the bottle in amazement, he then moved his gaze up to Vesemir who gave him a small, crooked smile. 

“ _Restaurata statera_ potion; its a bitch to find the ingredients let alone make it, and the effects are temporary, but it will help you with your sense control for a while.”

“Why the fuck haven't I heard of this potion before now? I certainly could have made use of it instead of struggling the last couple of months to keep myself on an even keel.” Geralt snapped out.

“Months, hmm? We'll come back to that in a minute.” Vesemir sat forward and leveled a glare at his former student “The reason you don't know about this potion is because by the time you complete your Witcher training, you shouldn't _need_ it. It has only ever been necessary in the most extreme circumstances or in the rare case a child too young to be trained is found and brought here in distress. Restaurata statera was originally created to help with control while someone learns to control their senses on their own; the more its taken, the less effective it becomes. Eventually, you could drink an entire cask of it and it would do nothing for you.”

Suitably chastised, Geralt nodded his acceptance of the explanation and slouched farther down in his chair with a sigh.

“Now then, I think its time you finally tell me just what the hell is going on. Don't you?”

Geralt had to acknowledge that any chance he had of keeping his problems to himself had sailed off past the Skellige Islands so, with a grimace, he opened his mouth and began to talk. He told Vesemir everything; Blavikin, meeting Jaskier, the Djinn, his on and off again relationship with Yennefer, the Child Surprise, the dragon hunt...and that final, horrible confrontation on the mountain that cost him everything, including his iron clad control over his senses. By the time he was done, night had fallen and Geralt was left feeling exhausted but relieved. Much like lancing the poison out of a wound, getting rid of everything he'd held inside had left him feeling better than he had in far too long. 

Picking through the remains of the meal they'd quickly put together sometime around him relaying the details of his inglorious exit from Cintra, Geralt waited for Vesemir to finish his silent contemplation before asking if he had any ideas on how to get control over his senses back.

Vesemir let out a loud snort. “That's easy. Go track down your religata continent meam , use your words to apologize _repeatedly_ and hope you'll be taken back.” He fell silent for a moment and grimaced. “Well, it would be easy for me but we're talking about _you_ so it might take a bit more work than that. The answer to your problem is the same regardless so I recommend you start practicing various ways to say you're sorry...maybe throw a little groveling in there while you're at it.”

Geralt shot him an incredulous look. “My soul bonded? I am not bon-” he let out a hard breath. “Witchers don't have the ability to bond and in any case she left _me_ if you'll recall so I fail to see why I should be the one apologizing.”

Vesemir took in Geralt's mutinous expression with narrowed eyes. “...you cannot possibly be this obtuse. Of course Witchers can bond; I don't know why you think we can't but we'll come back to that in a moment. The soul bonded I was referring to wasn't the Witch, it was your Bard.”

Geralt scoffed. “I am not bonded to Jaskier.”

“You're routinely apart from Yennefer, correct? Often for several months at a time?”

“Yes, but-”

“And Jaskier has been with you for years with only a week or two apart on average?”  
“Yes, what-”

“In all the time that you've known them both, have you ever had problems with your senses before now?”

“You know I haven't.”

“Yet nearly as soon as they're both gone, you begin having trouble with your control.”

“Would you just get to the _point?_ ” Geralt growled.

“My _point_ , Geralt, is that if the Witch were your bonded, you would have had problems with your senses _long_ before now; you were apart entirely too much for you to have managed without her presence. Your _Bard_ , however, has barely left your side and was gone only a very short amount of time when you were forced to be apart. Up until now, there has never been a significant amount of time in which you weren't together and _now_ is when you're suddenly having problems with your control. Whether you want to admit it or not, you are bonded to Jaskier; you bonded, you began using him to ground your senses and, now that you've sent him away, you have lost your ability to self regulate without using him as your baseline.”

For a moment, Geralt looked ready to argue before abruptly deflating. “I can't be bonded to Jaskier. I just can't.”

“Despite evidence to the contrary, why the hell not?”

“He's a baseline human and I'm not; he'll die long before I will and then what will I do? Spend the rest of my life alone, fighting not to zone out before I inevitably do and get myself killed?”

Vesemir stared in silence before raising a hand and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I haven't had nearly enough alcohol to deal with this.”

Now Geralt just looked confused. “What?”

Vesemir levered himself out of his chair and began walking towards the doorway. “Go grab me some ale and bring it to the library; apparently there are _gaps_ in your education that I desperately need to rectify.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Restaurata statera: Restored Balance
> 
> religata continent meam: Soul Bonded


	4. Remedial Lessons

Geralt entered the library to find Vesemir pulling various tomes off of the shelves, adding them to a fairly impressive stack already in place on one of the tables. Setting down the large tankard of ale he'd fetched for his mentor away from the priceless books, Geralt placed a refill pitcher on a side table, sat down with his own smaller flagon of water and resolved himself to waiting. Nothing about this evening had gone the way he'd expected it to but maybe that was for the best; especially if there was a way for him to have something he'd previously thought impossible. One last tome was dropped onto the table sending up a small plume of dust before Vesemir took his own seat with a gusty sigh. 

“Alright, since I'm not sure what information you're missing, since it is painfully obvious that you ARE missing some, I'm just going to start at the beginning and you are going to sit there like a good little Witcher and listen. Questions or anything you require clarification on can be dealt with after I get this out of the way. Clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Excellent.” Reaching for the tankard, Vesemir took a large mouthful and then began his lecture. “Back when certain people first began exhibiting enhanced senses and abilities, there was no formal school or even an agreed upon method of teaching these poor unfortunates how to control or, at the very least, manage themselves well enough to live even semi-normal lives. Many were lost as a result; accidents, misunderstandings, fugues no one could wake them from...some poor sods just couldn't handle the changes they had undergone and they chose to end things for themselves rather than try and live with their new reality. Everything was a mess until sometime around the end of the 9th century when the solution was stumbled upon by accident in the form of a young woman known for her kind and empathetic nature named Cassandra De Vrie. Miss De Vrie was the daughter of a local tradesman that lived near the border between Cidaris and Temeria, an area that had been plagued by monster attacks coming out of the nearby forest. When a trio of children were savaged while walking near the treeline, messages imploring aid were sent out and a pair of Sentinels, Daan Chordetin and Trosler of Temeria, responded. While the two dispatched the problem in short order, Trosler found his senses spiking and, afraid he would fall into a fugue, his companion escorted him back to the nearby settlement and left him in the care of the local healer, a man by the name of Renald De Vrie. Accounts vary on the exact events that transpired once Trosler of Temeria was in the care of Renald De Vrie but what's not in question is that Trosler arrived in trouble and left with full control over his senses and a spiritual bond to Renald's daughter, Cassandra.”

Vesemir paused a moment to clear his throat and take a drink before continuing. “Now, the discovery that it was possible to form a spiritual bond with other compatible individuals, many of whom appeared to be gifted in different ways than their Sentinels, brought with it a great deal of hope. Unfortunately, with the inherent danger of travel and the lack of reliable communication available, not to mention a surefire way to tell these other gifted people apart, the chances of a Sentinel being able to find and bond with their other half was considered slim to none. This continued to be a problem until the mid 10th century when the Order of Witchers was founded; a joint undertaking of warriors and mages working together to try and create a better manner of soldier, one that could wield magic like they were born to it. Though the original purpose of the Order was never realized, it was in the midst of their attempts that a way to further help those with enhanced senses was stumbled upon. Ordinary individuals were found to be unsuitable for the rigorous training and the less said about the casualty rates of those that lasted long enough to try the potions regiment, the better. Sentinels, however, were uniquely suited to not only survive, but thrive during the harsh training and conditions; they quickly adapted to the physical changes brought about by the mutagens present in the potions and the extreme focus on self discipline allowed them to gain full control over their senses. It was from this discovery, that the Witcher's Guild was formed; eight separate schools scattered across the continent and placed in secluded locations in order to best implement the necessary training without interruption. Those that successfully passed through the schools no longer had to worry about losing control of themselves and with their new abilities, the danger associated with traveling was greatly diminished. In just a handful of years, so many Sentinels had passed through the schools that they eventually stopped calling themselves Sentinels and instead began referring to themselves as Witchers.”

Draining the remaining ale from his tankard, Vesemir got up to pour himself a refill and watched with amusement as Geralt visibly restrained himself from opening his mouth. Letting out a small snort, he took another drink and motioned to his irritated companion. “Well, go on then. Let's hear it.”

“Not that this hasn't been informative but none of what you said has anything to do with why you think I've bonded. In fact, I'm fairly certain you just proved the opposite.”

“And how do you figure that?”

“You said it yourself that once a Sentinel completed training they no longer had to worry about their senses or the danger presented by losing themselves in a fugue or while traveling-”

“Nothing about the training Witchers go through negates the ability to bond, Geralt, it actually made it more likely that they would be able to.”

“...what?”

Vesemir let out a groan of frustration. “You listen yet still fail to _hear_. Since I apparently have no choice, allow me to spell it out for you. Prior to the establishment of the Witcher's Guild and Schools, it was true that the lack of sense control and the dangerous travel conditions made it unlikely that a Sentinel would find their other half. _After_ training, the two biggest obstacles to finding a compatible match and bonding were, if not completely gone, significantly lessened. Witcher training was never about doing away with the ability to bond, it was about making it _easier_ and _more likely_ a bond could be found and formed. Making it less of a hardship to go without that connection in the meantime was certainly a welcome relief, but once the story of Trosler of Temeria and his religata continent meam had spread through the Sentinel community, it became both a motivator and goal for those without.”

“None of the instructors have ever been bonded, yourself included.”

“It is true that I have never felt the urge to bond but there are always going to be those who don't want or need a bondmate for whatever reason; Kaer Morhen has had bonded instructors in the past, it is just happenstance that there are none on retainer presently.”

Geralt lapsed into silence and Vesemir let him. There was a lot for him to absorb, and Geralt would need time to rearrange his way of thinking and overall worldview to accommodate what he'd been told. Draining his tankard for the second time, Vesemir put it aside to take with him and carefully shifted the stack of books he'd gathered earlier to a place in front of his still silent student. 

“When you've finished ruminating, you can begin reading these; start from the top and work your way down. I'll answer any additional questions in the morning.”

Turning to gather up his dishes, Vesemir was at the door to the library before Geralt spoke up once more. “Even if bonding is a possibility, that doesn't change the fact that I will greatly outlive anyone I might have that connection to. Living the rest of my life alone and with that pain wouldn't be worth it.”

“No one can live their lives, or in a world, without pain but I can tell you with absolute certainty that you would never lose your bonded prematurely in that way. The bond between a Sentinel and their religata continent meam ties them together on a deeply spiritual level, entwining their lives so completely that where one goes the other will follow. It also means, that if one of the pairing has, say, a longer natural lifespan, their bonded will now find they have the same. Part of being bonded, Geralt, means that you will never again have to walk the world alone, regardless of where you wander.”

Geralt watched as Vesemir walked away and tried with some futility to ignore the kernel of hope that was rapidly expanding into a bonfire. Taking a deep breath, he shook some of the tension out of his muscles and reached for the first book in the stack; covered in brown leather, it was obviously quite old but otherwise there was nothing immediately interesting about it until Geralt cracked open the cover and saw the name written inside: _Trosler of Temeria_. Blinking a little in surprise, Geralt made himself comfortable and began to read.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my submission for the April Rough Trade Challenge, Established Relationships. I'd never written in this fandom before, never participated in a writing challenge, and hadn't actually written anything other than a few lines here and there in years. I wanted to try anyway. I didn't manage to finish the challenge but I love my story concept and plan on continuing it here.


End file.
